Everything he does is Magic. From the moment he sets his eyes on me every day, any time of the day. Is Magic.
Magic how? You would ask.
Magic is those incredible things that happen on your surroundings that either you cannot explain or describe. He is just like that.
So back to his eyes; the way they shine and the way the creases on their sides enlarge when he smiles. The way their color changes with his emotions, something he doesn't even know I've notice. The way his brows go up or down as his emotions change, encasing his eyes. The way they jump slightly from side to side when he decides which one of my eyes he likes more to look at a time, or a point in between them, because... unfortunately he cant look at both at the same time when we sit next to each other.
His eyes. Those bright, beautiful marbles. Are Magic.
Everything he touches is Magic too. Either that or I can't explain how his hands moves in such figures on my arms, my back, my hair. It must be definitely Magic.
How every fingertip feels like a defibrillator shock when they make contact with my skin. And no, its not static, if you may.
His touch... its compelling, powerful, full of his emotions. Even when is not measured. Even when its messy, uncontrolled or unannounced. Its never unwelcomed. Even when I'm in a perpetual jerk-state. His touch, when there, is Magic. Oh, so magical. When our hands sync and fall into each others. When they don't and we look for the other. When our feets bump softly undercovers and then we keep rubbing. When our bodies just mold to the others.
His touch. Ever present, ever unique. Must be Magic.
When he talks. You won't even believe me... That's definitely Magic. Every word, every single one. Bad grammar in both languages we know, crunchy morning tones or squeaky trying-to-be-cute tones. Everything he says is unbelievably indescribable. His expressions, his answers, his compliments, his laugh... Oh God, his laugh, that is the biggest proof there is something extraordinary in him. How he will say "Thank you" in the softest voice, or in a sheepish way when he is not expecting something or I do something out-of-my-way-ish cute. How he will try to coo in the wrongest of moments, but that'll just made me smile, internally most often than not. How he will say sorry for the dumbest thing. How my answer makes him smile and then say something cute.
How he says I'm amazing, perfect, or beautiful, in such a loving way, even when he knows I won't believe him.
His voice is Magic.
His presence is Magical too. Because how else would you explain the things my body feels when he is around? And the things I do and don't feel when he is not? How would you even start describing how any room feels lighter when he walks in, how the air feels fresh and the light is brighter and the colors are more intense? How would you say the world disappears when he is with me, how he sometimes can make me forget we're not alone in a bus, in a mall, in the dance floor..?
Since you can't explain that, I came to the conclusion that his presence is, indeed, Magic.
So you will ask... How come you've gathered all this evidence? How come you know all these things and categorize them under "magical"?
Because, I mean, as Magic happens unexpectedly, uncoordinatedly.
His love too, happened to me, that way.
And that's Magic. I know.
Magic how? You would ask.
Magic is those incredible things that happen on your surroundings that either you cannot explain or describe. He is just like that.
So back to his eyes; the way they shine and the way the creases on their sides enlarge when he smiles. The way their color changes with his emotions, something he doesn't even know I've notice. The way his brows go up or down as his emotions change, encasing his eyes. The way they jump slightly from side to side when he decides which one of my eyes he likes more to look at a time, or a point in between them, because... unfortunately he cant look at both at the same time when we sit next to each other.
His eyes. Those bright, beautiful marbles. Are Magic.
Everything he touches is Magic too. Either that or I can't explain how his hands moves in such figures on my arms, my back, my hair. It must be definitely Magic.
How every fingertip feels like a defibrillator shock when they make contact with my skin. And no, its not static, if you may.
His touch... its compelling, powerful, full of his emotions. Even when is not measured. Even when its messy, uncontrolled or unannounced. Its never unwelcomed. Even when I'm in a perpetual jerk-state. His touch, when there, is Magic. Oh, so magical. When our hands sync and fall into each others. When they don't and we look for the other. When our feets bump softly undercovers and then we keep rubbing. When our bodies just mold to the others.
His touch. Ever present, ever unique. Must be Magic.
When he talks. You won't even believe me... That's definitely Magic. Every word, every single one. Bad grammar in both languages we know, crunchy morning tones or squeaky trying-to-be-cute tones. Everything he says is unbelievably indescribable. His expressions, his answers, his compliments, his laugh... Oh God, his laugh, that is the biggest proof there is something extraordinary in him. How he will say "Thank you" in the softest voice, or in a sheepish way when he is not expecting something or I do something out-of-my-way-ish cute. How he will try to coo in the wrongest of moments, but that'll just made me smile, internally most often than not. How he will say sorry for the dumbest thing. How my answer makes him smile and then say something cute.
How he says I'm amazing, perfect, or beautiful, in such a loving way, even when he knows I won't believe him.
His voice is Magic.
His presence is Magical too. Because how else would you explain the things my body feels when he is around? And the things I do and don't feel when he is not? How would you even start describing how any room feels lighter when he walks in, how the air feels fresh and the light is brighter and the colors are more intense? How would you say the world disappears when he is with me, how he sometimes can make me forget we're not alone in a bus, in a mall, in the dance floor..?
Since you can't explain that, I came to the conclusion that his presence is, indeed, Magic.
So you will ask... How come you've gathered all this evidence? How come you know all these things and categorize them under "magical"?
Because, I mean, as Magic happens unexpectedly, uncoordinatedly.
His love too, happened to me, that way.
And that's Magic. I know.
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